Mutually Beneficial
by storylover18
Summary: A bit of a writing exercise ... a glimpse at one friend taking care of the other while ill (non-slash, of course!) ... only there are no names, so it's up to your imagination to determine who is the patient and who is the care-taker. Enjoy!


**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. **

**Hi everyone! So while this _is_ a bit of a sick!fic, there's something different about this story. There are no names and it's written in such a way that the patient could be either John or Sherlock. I hope it's alright … it was a bit of a writing exercise that I've had in my brain for awhile so I thought I'd just try it out. **

A door slammed, jolting him awake. The room was dark and he groped for his watch. It was almost ten o'clock at night. He felt rather annoyed by the slamming door … his friend knew he was ill; he had been for the past two days. Surely he wouldn't slam the door in attempts not to disturb his ill flatmate.

The bedroom door was slightly open and he heard footsteps coming towards the room. The door swung open, light from outside flooding in and he buried further down in his nest of pillows and blankets. Footsteps told him his friend was at the edge of his bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

"No, you're not."

Even underneath the blankets, he could sense that a hand was coming down on his forehead.

"You've still got the fever. Have you eaten?"

"No." The blankets were flipped down, a sudden hot-flash causing a flushed face and sweat beads to form.

"Would you like something? You have to eat."

"I'm not very hungry."

"Just eat a little, it'll help you feel better. How do you expect your body to get better if you don't nourish it properly?"

"You're one to talk."

"I eat."

"Pastries do not count."

His flat mate huffed, as if offended.

"Do you want some soup? Or maybe a bit of toast?"

He wasn't going to let this go and while the 'patient' appreciated the gesture, he simply wasn't hungry. It came with the territory of flu. However, he knew that he would not be left alone till he at least attempted something to eat.

"Some crackers and jam," he decided. "And a cuppa would be lovely."

"I suppose that's better than nothing," his flat mate paused. "Tea won't help the fever and it has a negative water count. You should really have juice or water."

"Fine," he answered, sliding down in his bed again. The hot flash had turned to chills. Fevers were just annoying that way – hot one minute, cold the next.

By the time supper was delivered, he was feeling a bit more alert, although he knew it wouldn't last long after he ate. Energy spurts never did.

The tray was spread with a plate of crackers, a small bowl of jam, a knife, and a cup of orange juice.

"There's no pulp, just the way you like it."

Without responding, he ate as much as possible, which was more than he had been able to eat in the past few days. He finished his juice by swallowing two night time cold and flu pills.

"Do you want anything else?"

"No, thank you."

The hand descended again onto the forehead.

"If the fever is still there tomorrow, I'm taking you to the surgery."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

A sigh escaped his lips. He desperately hoped the fever was gone by tomorrow because he knew no matter how much he didn't want to go, or think he didn't need to go, when his friend had his mind set on something, it happened regardless of what he wanted, especially when it came to his friends' wellbeing.

"We'll see in the morning." The words were mumbled, issued while dreams began enveloping his mind. It was too soon for the cold and flu medicine to work, wasn't it? Either way, he was slipping into sleep quickly.

"If you need anything, just call."

"Mhmm."

"Sleep well."

With that, the door clicked closed and the room was dark and quiet again.

**I know it's a bit different than what's out there, or even compared to what I usually write but I'm curious to see if you have any opinions one who's the patient and who's not? Reviews are always appreciated, even if it's just some constructive criticism, given this **_**was**_** more a writing exercise than an actual story =) **


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